


Through the Mirror of Erised

by leftdragonpainter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon, EWE, Freaky Fic Friday, Hermione is barely in this, Hermione is sort of OC, Humor, I swear, Mild Language, Minor Character Death, Multi, Veritaserum, What Canon?, changing timeline, give this a chance, its done correctly, its first person pov
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-12 15:27:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 16,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5670874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leftdragonpainter/pseuds/leftdragonpainter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever dream of finding yourself inside the wizarding world? Of course you have, you cheeky devil! How would you play with the story? Would you let it play out? Or mess with it? Could you deal with the consequences?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue/Chapter One

I closed the book, smiling. Even though I had read the series countless times, and seen the movies countless more over the past 14 years, they still managed to bring me to tears. The good kind for the most part.

It was definitely bizarre that I showed more emotion for JK Rowling's fictional world than I did for the real one I lived in. But I knew where her characters stood, what their motivations were. They didn't disappoint. With my mind still full of the wizarding world that I had spent the day reading I took off my glasses, shut my eyes, and fell asleep. 

*****

When I woke abruptly I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from screaming – whether from sheer fright of fangirling, I didn’t know. All I knew for sure was that I wasn’t in Kansas anymore. Not that I was before but this sure as hell wasn’t my apartment in Toledo.

“You alright there?” The boy with the dark hair, glasses and _scar_ asked from where he sat on the red couch.

I nodded.

“You really need to stop falling asleep out in the common room, Mione.” The ginger boy beside him added.

“Probably.” I said. Then I blinked. That wasn’t my voice. That voice wasn’t rough from partying too hard in my early twenties, it wasn’t even American. No this voice, the voice that came out of my mouth was very British, and very young. Like maybe eleven or twelve years old young.

“Fuck.” I said.

The boys’ eyes widened, and Ron laughed hard. “Hermione! I didn’t know you could swear!”

“I can today.” I said before I fell back into the chair behind me and blacked out.

 

CHAPTER ONE

This time I awoke in the hospital wing. The room had tan tiled floors and walls, and metal framed beds probably from the 1940’s. This is one intensely real dream I thought as I struggled to sit up.

“She’s awake,” Ron spoke softly.

“Will Hermione be alright, Professor?” Harry asked, worried.

 _Professor?_ My fangirl heart leapt as I wondered who it could be. Then the aged, lightly Irish voice I had heard so often before in my head spoke.

“I don’t see why not, Mr. Potter. Now why don’t you and Mr. Weasley run along to your classes. I’m certain Madame Pomfrey will look after Miss Granger to the best of her abilities.” Dumbledore said, a twinkle in his eyes.

A freaking _twinkle_ people!

Harry and Ron left, leaving me alone with their Headmaster. I struggled to find words, to find a way to ask the million and one questions I had without giving Dumbledore cause to send me to St. Mungo’s.

Though I definitely might need a trip to the psych ward once I somehow snapped out of this and returned to reality.

“You seem to have a lot of questions going through that head of yours, Miss Granger,” he spoke wisely as he sat in a plush chair he conjured from his wand.

My eyes widened. It was my first time seeing _real_ magic. Not CGI or merely my imagination from reading the books. This was real. It had to be. My rational mind fought against that idea. I’m in a coma, in my happy place at Hogwarts.

“Miss Granger?” The professor asked again startling me back to what was happening.

“What day is it? The date?” I clarified. I needed to know. “The date exactly.”

“Why it’s the 27th of January, 1992.” His eyes twinkled with amusement. But with my own adult eyes I caught his flash of concern.

“I’m not crazy.” I told him, though I doubted that statement entirely. For even though a part of me was freaking out over this whole experience, my mind was pulling at the plot of the Sorcerer’s Stone.

Since this was only a dream though there was no harm in moving the plot along, surely?

 _And if this isn’t a dream?_ my inner voice yelled.

“I don’t believe that you are crazy, Miss Granger. Or that there would be anything wrong if you were. Some of the greatest advancements within the wizarding world happened…”

“Yeah, yeah. Because some crazy wizard did something stupid.” I interrupted him with a wave of my hand. His bushy white eyebrows rose in surprise at my rudeness but I didn’t care. I had things to say.

“Listen, dude.” I started. Holy crap. I just called Dumbledore _‘dude’_. “You do realize don’t you that Quirrell is harboring Voldemort, right? Like inside him. That Voldemort wants the stone Flamel gave you to bring himself back?”

I watched as his expression froze, and his eyes blinked once. Just once. Shit, he didn’t believe me. Before I could add anything else, he spoke softly though a bit stilted.

“That is… That’s quite the imagination you have there, Miss Granger. With one that strong you should be writing stories in the Muggle world.”

“I’m not making it up.” I said calmly. My face remained passive. Truthfully, it didn’t matter if he didn’t believe me. Everything would come out by the end of the school year anyways. But still… My mind raced over how many things might be prevented. Over how many people could be saved.

“Do you have any proof to this allegation?” Dumbledore spoke after a minute, with a raised brow.

Being inside this younger body I could see how he could easily intimidate a nervous first year student into admitting that they were lying, if he had wanted to.

Too bad for him that I wasn’t a child. Or his student. Remaining utterly calm in my truth, I began. “When exactly was the last time that you saw Quirrell with his turban on? It wasn’t a vampire or hag he met in that forest last summer. It was Voldemort. That’s why the turban smells; it’s the evil penetrating through.”

He sighed, as though disappointed.

I decided to throw a curveball, one he certainly wouldn’t expect. “What if I told you something, something that I should have absolutely no knowledge of, being a first year and a muggle-born. Like, no matter how many books I’ve read, I shouldn’t know this. Something you’ve kept secret a very long time. Would you condider believing me then?”


	2. Chapter Two

He smiled kindly, clearly not expecting me to tell him some great secret. Probably excpected me to say something childish. “I supposed that I might be inclined to. Depending on the secret, that is.”

I looked around the room to make certain that no one was within hearing distance. There wasn’t, so I turned to him and said. “Severus Snape was, is in love with Lily Potter. When he learned that Voldemort planned to kill her and her family to prevent his downfall, Snape flipped and became a double agent for the Order. All so that you would protect her.”

I had to stop. I glared at the wizard beside me. This was one part of the story that had filled me with anger. This man’s inability to protect the Potters, to recognize the enemy in their midst. But I’m just sentimental like that. “And then, when Harry was to come to the school, you charged Snape with protecting _her_ son. Something about ‘he has her eyes’.”

I stopped for breath. The words I had given had been concise, and so ingrained into my soul that I hadn’t even had to pause to think of what to say. Sure there were other secrets I could have used – Elder wand anyone? – but Hermione shouldn’t know anything of private conversations between Dumbledore and Snape. Especially not ones that had happened before Hermione had even learned that she was a witch.

The old professor just sat in the plush chair not moving, not blinking or even breathing for a full minute. I could see the wheels and cogs moving fast behind his glasses. Finally, he took a deep breath and spoke two words. “I’m listening.”

“It’s complicated. You know as well as I do that there was more to Voldemort’s defeat than the rest of the wizarding world will ever know. Or understand. That no matter what appearances may have been, he would have had certain _ways_ ,” I emphasized, “to survive. And now he’s hiding with Quirrell, using him to grow stronger.”

“If this is true, Miss Granger,” he said. I winced at his use of her name, forgetting for a moment that I wasn’t really me. “How exactly would you recommend… an extraction, as it were?”

“All Harry has to do is touch Professor Quirrell’s face. Anywhere the skin is exposed really. The protection from Lily’s sacrifice that’s within Harry will be enough to stop him. At least for a while. Unfortunately, Quirrell will be destroyed.” I snorted briefly. “Though, he has been trying to kill Harry all year, so that might be argued as justified.”

The old wizards eyes bore into me as though trying to see into my soul. He probably was. It must be Oclimency, I thought. Though I couldn’t feel it like it had been described in the books. I couldn’t feel it at all.

“How are you blocking me?” He asked softly, a curious frown formed on his face. “No twelve year old should be able to.”

“I’m older than I look.” I muttered then yawned. I was falling asleep again. Before I did I grabbed his hand. “Listen, I don’t know if I will wake with this type of… _foresight_ again. So, for Hermione’s sake, please don’t bring up this conversation with me again. If we can talk about it, I’ll say…” I paused, thought for a moment, then grinned. “Radcliffe.”

“For Hermione’s sake?” Dumbledore frowned. “But you’re…”

I didn’t hear him, for I had blacked out once more.

*****

My alarm blared angrily beside me. I groaned, slamming my hand down on top of it to turn it off. Rolling over, I glanced around the room and smiled.I was back. Back in my dingy little bedroom in my own little apartment.

I shook my head to clear it. It was scary how real that dream had been. And though I recalled every single minute detail of the dream as though it were memory, it had still just been a dream.

I had no idea at that point how wrong I was.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer...I am not JK Rowling. I'm not that awesome.


	3. Chapter Three

Twice more it happened in the next week. Each time the dream lasted longer; a couple of days here, a full week there. I even used magic, and was shocked to find that I was pretty decent at it. I knew deep down that it was Hermione’s genetics that was magical, but still…

My grades certainly weren’t up to Hermione’s standards though. At one point I pulled a Seamus and blew off my eyebrows during a potions lesson. Snape had not been pleased to say the least. I just smiled and shrugged like it was no biggie. For me, it wasn’t.

Between visits two and three however, events had transpired that had cast a shadow over my dreams where I attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Quirrell had been exposed and defeated. Not under the third floor corridor on the right hand side, but in the crowded great hall after dinner one night.

One of the Weasley twins, Fred apparently, had tripped the professor accidently. He had fallen right next to Harry. When I had heard Fred’s name, my heart ached.

Harry, being the kind hearted boy that he was, had tried to help Professor Quirrell up. And in so doing, well, the ashes and screaming and smoke with Voldemort’s face happened. An unconscious Harry had been carted off to the hospital wing while Dumbledore tried to calm the students and explain everything to those who would listen.

At the end of my third trip Ron had been talking about it, presumably again, when he stopped and looked at me funny.

“What?” I asked.

“Why aren’t you telling me to,” Ron started in a fake female voice, imitating Hermione. “’Be quiet, Ronald! I was there, I saw it all. Remember?’”

But I didn’t remember. _I_ wasn’t there. Hermione had been. Harry sat next to me at the table in the Gryffindor common room, staring intensly at me. As intense as an eleven year old could I suppose. I knew, deep down, they were doubting me. That they somehow knew that I wasn’t _their_ Hermione.

I sighed loudly, faking exasperation. Rolling my eyes, I said to Ron. “Honestly, Ronald I wasn’t even paying attention to what you were saying.”

With that I flounced up the stairs to the girls dorms and went to bed.

*****

I awoke to my alarm blaring once again. How I hated that noise. I yawned and stretched, feeling more tired than I had before I had fallen asleep. I was worried that I kept having these persistant dreams. Sure, I’d occasionally have them over the years, but not this many within a week and certainly not this intense.

I needed to reassure myself that it had just been a dream. I pulled out my paperback copy of Socerer’s Stone. Looking for the chapter with Quirrell at the end, I flipped the page and read the words:

 

_“Here. Let me help you up, Professor.” Harry said, taking Quirrell’s hand._

_Quirrell screamed and the Great Hall erupted into chaos…_

 

I shut the book and paniced. I did not just see that, I did not read it. I peeked at the page again. The words were still there mocking me.

“Fuck.” I said loudly as I sat down on the edge of my bed. “JK Rowling is gonna kill me.”

 *****

I went to bed the next night confused beyond belief. While my own normal life continued as it always had, I was somehow jumping periodically into Hermione Granger’s body and thus _Quantum Leap_ -ing into the Harry Potter novels.

I was almost afraid to close my eyes that night, not knowing where in the timeline I would end up. Earlier in the day I had frantically called my bestie T., who was a huge Harry Potter fan as well, and questioned her. “Remind me which room in Hogwarts does Quirrell die in? I’m having a brain fart.” I lied, knowing that she wouldn’t question me asking or for forgetting something like that.

I heard the amusement in her voice when she answered. “In the Great Hall after a dinner, dum-dum.”

So now I was confused and terrified, though slightly impressed, that I had somehow managed to alter the epic storylines.

I lay stock still on my bed and stared up at my bedroom ceiling. I fought to keep myself awake. I didn’t want to mess with the story anymore. I didn’t want to ruin perfection.

*****

My eyes opened, and I whispered, “Fuck.”

I was once more in the Gryffindor girls dorm. Going over to the mirror I looked at ‘my’ reflection. It looked like Hermione from year two. I stared at the young girl’s reflection, and whispered. “I’m sorry, Hermione.”

Then I could have sworn the reflection winked back at me.

I passed it off as a trick of the light, and set off to begin Hermione’s day.

The Chamber of Secrets. Great. Giant, talking, man-eating spiders and basilisks. “Ugh, and Gilderoy Lockhart.” I rolled my eyes. What a putz.

Unfortunately, it was the first day of classes and first up was Defense Against the Dark Arts. I sat next to an unknown Gryffindor girl in the second row. I muttered loudly and sarcastically. “Here we go.”

As soon as the words left my mouth he stepped out of his office. A part of me had always wondered over his sexuality given the flamboyant way he had been described in the books.

I didn’t wonder anymore.

When he started his spiel I zoned out. “Gilderoy Lockhart… something of Merlin… yada, yada… _Witch Weekly’s_ most charming smile award.”

I rolled my eyes. Looking around at all the prepubescent girls sighing, I had to roll them again. In the aisle across from mine I caught Draco Malfoy staring at me. I shot him a look that I thought he at least would appreciate that said, “Can you believe this guy?” I tossed him a small smile.

Draco returned it, nodded and chuckled for a moment before stopping, realizing what he had just done. Laughing with a mudblood – Merlin forbid! He went back to glaring and muttered under his breath something that sounded like ‘filthy mudblood’.

He looked so flustered that I had to smile and laugh.

The next twenty minutes was spent taking the All Things Gilderoy test, which I failed. That of course, caused Harry and Ron to look at me with concern. I shrugged and whispered, “What? It happens.”

But for Hermione, it wasn’t supposed to. She was supposed to have memorized his entire works already. I returned to focusing on the class at hand when Lockhart pulled a sheet off of the cage on his desk. _Oh no,_ I thought.

“…freshly caught Cornish pixies, Mr. Finnigan. Let’s see what you make of them!’ The idiot shouted as he released the blue pixies.

The class turned hysterical as the pixies flew around causing chaos. I pulled out Hermione’s wand as I saw Neville being lifted into the air. I spelled in quick succession, “ _Immobulis! Arresto momentum!”_

The second I cast to slow Neville’s rapid, and potentially dangerous fall to the desk-littered, stone floor beneath him.

*****

Twenty minutes late I sat in front of Professor Dumbledore in his office, filling him in on what had happened.

I debated about whether or not to give away that I wasn’t Hermione at this juncture. But there were still certain things that needed to play out. Harry’s first detention for one.

I stood to leave, but paused at the door. Warn him, my conscious shouted. I looked at the old man behind the ornate desk. “Sir?”

“Yes, Miss Granger?” he smiled.

“This is going to be a dangerous year. It’d be best if you and the staff carried mirrors to look around corners.” With that, I left.

 


	4. Chapter Four

It was difficult for me to tell what was real. Was it the mundane reality that I had lived with for my whole life or was it in the wizarding world, where potential danger was around every corner? I couldn’t tell anymore as I began spending an equal amount of time in both. And when I was in the wizarding world, I was playing with specific events that were memorable and important.

Yet I couldn’t bring myself to just play along. I wasn’t Hermione, and I was already growing tired of pretending to be.

I was in the courtyard when Draco called me a ‘mudblood’ in front of the two Quidditch teams. But to his and everyone else’s shock, I laughed, genuinely laughed, and let the insult roll off me. The Gryffindor team postured and attempted to defend my honor. And I just continued to laugh.

Ron had grabbed my shoulder, angrily spewing out, “Hermione! Don’t you know what he just called you? Why are you laughing?”

I nodded that I knew but I didn’t stop laughing. I turned to Draco and said. “Ah, Malfoy. It’s so endearing that you hide your feelings behind your insults. Fair warning though, you might regret them at some later point.” I walked away, leaving both groups of Slytherins and Gryffindor’s gaping openmouthed after me.

The next time I turned up in the wizarding world was the first night it opened. Ron and I stood with Harry in the flooded hallway staring at the blood-painted words. _Enemies of the heir, beware_. There was a crowd gathered around of teachers and students. My eyes scanned the crowd and found Ginny. She was extremely frightened and pale, and only I knew why.

“I, however, don’t recall seeing Mr. Potter at dinner,” Snape snidely said. Lockhart jumped in with the information of Potter’s detention in his office.

I speedily added my two cents. “That’s why we were trying to find Harry, sir. We had just run into him when he told us he wasn’t hungry. We were heading back to the common room when we found this.”

I met Dumbledore’s eyes, and arched a brow. His gaze never wavered from mine as he said, “Innocent until proven guilty, Severus. Now off to bed all of you. Except for you, Miss Granger.”

Ron shrugged and wandered off with the rest of the Gryffindor’s. Harry stared at me; I was lying and he knew it. Finally, he left as well when I wouldn’t meet his gaze. The students and teachers left; Madame Pomfrey taking Filch’s cat to the hospital wing presumably. Soon it was just Dumbledore and I alone in the hallway.

He eyed me wearily. I could tell he was trying to determined which Hermione he was talking with at this time. I tucked my hands into my sweater’s pockets and sighed. “Radcliffe, professor.”

“Ah, I had wondered. Now would you care to fill me in on what’s happening in my school? I won’t make the mistake of not believing you this time around.” He added solemnly.

I looked to the blood smeared wall, then down the hall to Myrtle’s bathroom, then back to him. “I could tell you. I could tell you everything. But certain things must happen in the order that they’re meant to. Harry and you both must learn his true destiny slowly at this point, and as much as I wish I could force this story forward, this is too critical of a year.”

“Story?” he repeated. His body language screamed that he was frustrated, that he wanted answers. I didn’t blame him. “This is no story, Miss Granger. I insist that you tell me all you know.”

“Unfortunately, that’s all I’m going to tell you. For now.” With that passing remark I walked away, and went off to the Gryffindor tower.

*****

I could tell that my friends were concerned. I was avoiding them, even T. I had told her about the ‘dreams’ I was having. She passed them off, I think, as me merely needing to get out more. If she only knew.

I didn’t think I could get out more than I already was with having an out of body experience like the one I was having.

*****

I woke but couldn’t move. Couldn’t blink. Was I breathing? I started to panic. I could see but only the high cathedral ceiling above me. Shit. Out of all the times to wake up, it had to be when Hermione was petrified. At least she hadn’t died.

“…had this with her. Does it mean anything to you?” Professor McGonagall passed the hand mirror across the bed. Harry and Ron must be on the other side of it.

This. Really. Sucked.

Over the next day and a half I lay there, listening to the world, the story move around me. There was nothing for me to do, but wait. Wait and think. And what I thought about I wasn’t happy with. I could feel the sheets at my back, the knee socks on my shins, the clip in my hair. But what I couldn’t feel, what should have been there, was the paper. The paper that had the info on the Basilisk. It wasn’t there.

 _Apparently Hermione’s not so smart_ , I thought angrily.

Several hours after that I felt a presence beside me. It was night as far as I could tell from the utter darkness above me. A hand touched my clenched left one. I wondered at who it could be, at why they were there? Was it Harry?

“You didn’t deserve this Granger.”

If I could have blinked I would have. Draco Malfoy stood next to me, touching my hand. No. _Hermione’s_ hand. I wished that I could see the boy’s face at this moment. Why was he here?

“I hope this will help that idiot Potter and his idiot friend,” he whispered. I felt paper being shoved into my hand a moment before his footsteps crept away.

Draco had given Hermione the paper? Who knew?


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, things are about to get crazy! Things will be revealed, but to whom, and how? Will it be for the better?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still not JK Rowling.

Being petrified had sucked. I had woken up during it several times barely conscious, yet somehow floating in a continuous dream state. Finally, _finally_ , I woke as Madame Pomfrey administered the antidote. My bed was placed far away from the others in the ward. The healer, McGonagall, and Dumbledore were the only visitors I had at the moment that I could see.

The first words out of my mouth, words that caused the adults around me to blink in surprise, were. “Did Harry and Ginny make it out of the Chamber of Secrets alright?”

Dumbledore stepped forward, clearing his throat. “If you all would excuse us, please. I believe that Miss Granger and I have things to discuss.”

“Headmaster, she needs to…” Madame Pomfrey started, upset at being usurped her authority in her own ward.

“Eat. I need to eat. But for now, go away.” I said, and she pursed her lips, nodded and walked to one of the other students. McGonagall went with her, knowing better than to argue with Dumbledore in front of a student. I sat up in the bed, stretching my muscles. I was stiff and wanted to run around the room after being there for so long, but I knew I should take it slow. “Again, did they make it out alright?”

“Yes, Miss Granger they did.” Dumbledore passed me a glass of clear liquid.

“Water or veritaserum?” I asked, arching my eyebrow. “There are still things that I can’t yet tell you.”

“Merely water, Miss Granger. Though I do understand your reticence,” he admitted. I stared at his face to see if he was lying. He wasn’t and I drank the water. Hermione’s mouth had been so dry. I could have used some eye drops as well come to that, but I would take what I could get.

“To answer your question, they did escape the Chamber relatively unscathed. But yet I have the feeling you knew they would.” He smirked, and his eyes twinkled. Again.

I was growing rather tired of that twinkle.

“Perhaps I did. And did Lockhart Obliviate himself with Ron’s wand? And was Dobby the house elf freed from the Malfoy’s charge?” I asked. He nodded but remained silent. I think that I shocked him with those. “Was the basilisk killed with Godric Gryffindor’s sword? And was Tom Riddle’s diary destroyed with the basilisk fang?”

“Now, Miss Granger I think that the time may be upon us that you explain to me how it is that you know things that happened while you were petrified. I won’t answer anything else until you answer a few things yourself.” He stared at me, looking very determined.

While I may be as equally stubborn as the old wizard, I was nowhere near as powerful, and there was no doubt that he was powerful. He could get the info out of me through methods that would leave no trace, but out of respect to Hermione, he wasn’t using those. I swallowed and kept my voice low. “I’m not exactly Hermione. Well, I am… but I’m not. Not always. I’m not sure how to explain that part to you. But where I’m from, I know Harry’s story, his life. But it’s just a story, make believe. But I’ve started to change things. Important things though are still happening, but in different ways than before. I’m not explaining this well am I?”

Dumbledore sat next to me on the bed, and kept his voice low. “Not as well as you would wish, but well enough for me to grasp what you mean. Are you… how old are you?”

“Twenty-four.” I told him the truth. For the first time in a long while I did not mind telling a man my age. My mind felt funny, foggy as though I was five captain and diets in at the bar. It felt like I was drunk and when I got drunk I spilled my guts out. I glared at Dumbledore as realization sank in. “You bastard. You lied.”

“I did indeed, Miss...Granger. But I told you that I needed to know the truth of what was happening in my school. Now the question is,” he began. I could see that he was enjoying this. I should have known better than to take that water, but it had been Dumbledore. _Dumbledore_ for christ sake! He continued, “Where to begin?”

“Harry and Ron and Ron’s rat. They need to hear the truth too.” I slurred. I hated this. I could hear myself say the words, though distorted, but I couldn’t do anything to stop.

“Ron’s _rat_? Why would Mr. Weasley’s rat need to hear this?” he asked.

It was such a ridiculous sentence that I had to laugh. And laugh. I felt so drunk, but not drunk. I wondered if you could get hangovers from Veritaserum? And _that_ thought sent me off on another bout of laughter.

Dumbledore sent for McGonagall for Harry and Ron…and his pet rat, while he waited for my laughter to subside. I didn’t know if they arrived quickly or if I just lay there laughing for an exceedingly long time. All I knew was that I was soon surrounded by Harry, Dumbledore, Ron carrying Scabbers aka Pettigrew, and McGonagall. Two others came pacing up behind them as well, but from my vantage I couldn’t see who they were.

“Headmaster,” a sdeep snide voice spoke from beyond the group. Snape stepped over to Dumbledore. “The Minister insists that he needs to speak with you.”

“That’s all very good, Snape, but I believe that I can speak for myself. Ah, Mr. Potter isn’t it? How very nice to meet you, but I’m afraid this is adult business. Run along.” The minister pompously stated. No one moved a muscle, waiting for Dumbledore’s response.

Dumbledore was waiting for mine.

“Ronald, can I hold Scabbers?” I asked as sweetly as I could. My wand was laying next to me, within reach. I hoped Pettigrew couldn’t sense what I was about to do to him.

“Of course.” Ron said confused but handed the rat over.

“Dumbledore, really, I must speak with you.” Fudge huffed out. “This Chamber business is really quite…”

“Professor?” I interrupted. I could hear that my voice had turned singsong. I held the rat close, petting its head calmly. My other hand gripped Hermione’s wand tightly. My head swayed as I continued. “You wanted to know things, and I know the truth. If I tell a lie, I’d be uncouth!”

I had turned to rhyming. I hated this veritaserum. Snape looked from me to Dumbledore; he actually looked concerned. “Sir?”

“PETRIFICUS TOTALIS!” I shouted, pointing the wand at Pettigrew. Everyone jumped and shouted, “Hermione! What on earth has gotten into you? Scared me near to death. Why’d you petrify Scabbers for?” The last came from Ron.

“Shut up Ronald. Professor McGonagall, I know that you know the spell to transform an animangus back correct?” I asked holding up to unmoving rat in my hand.

McGonagall looked worriedly from me over to Dumbledore. He then looked to me and said in with a warning tone. “You had best explain first Miss Granger.”

“Sirius Black didn’t betray the Potters. They didn’t tell you that they switched their secret keeper to Peter Pettigrew.” My head swayed over to look at Harry. He was frowning, he was confused. I didn’t blame him. He didn’t know who either of those people were yet. “Pettigrew is an animangus.”

“There would be record of that if that were the case, Miss Granger.” Snape smirked.

“Not if he hadn’t registered.” I countered. Damn when would this wear off? “After old Voldy killed Harry’s parents, Sirius knew what happened. Peter betrayed them. He went to fight him. All that was left of Pettigrew was a finger, right? Look at this rat. Missing a finger just like him. Go ahead, change him back. And get Sirius Black out of Azkaban. Harry deserves to be with his godfather.”

“Dumbledore this is ridiculous. Clearly this girl needs to be looked at.” Fudge griped.

“I’m on veritaserum.” I sang from the bed. “If I’m lying the transformation spell won’t work.”

At that everyone paused and look at me. I smiled at them.


	6. Six

 

*****

Watching Sorcerer’s Stone for the thousandth time…

“Ugh, gawd, I wish Fred and George would have just confronted Ron like, ‘Who’s this Peter guy you always have in your bed?’ Seriously, they could have exposed Pettigrew within the first week of year one.” T. shouted at the flat screen. She said the same thing each time we had our annual Harry Potter marathon. It took a full weekend and we generally ran errands during Goblet but we continued the tradition nonetheless.

I laughed. “If they did that we wouldn’t have something to complain about right now.”

*****

The group around me was deathly quiet. To my surprise Snape was the one who spoke up first with, “Miss Granger does have a point, Headmaster. One simple spell and we can move on from this farce. Though I don’t understand why she thinks to lie to us about being on veritaserum.”

Dumbledore’s eyes stayed fixed on mine as he said. “Minerva, Severus, if you would?”

Snape took Scabbers from me and set the petrified rat on the ground. I watched as he and McGonagall pointed their wands and silently spelled. To everyone’s surprise except for mine and Dumbledore’s the rat began to morph into Peter Pettigrew. He lay on the ground as stiff and as frozen as I was mere hours before.

Yawning, I said. “I told you so.”

The next several days were quite chaotic as everyone rushed around trying to make sense of what I had uncovered. Fudge wanted me brought in for questioning; Dumbledore and the other teachers had adamantly refused. I had to admit that it felt quite nice watching these characters, these people, have my back. I knew that if they hadn’t, Fudge being the coward that he was would have gone to extremes to extract what I knew from me. He probably wouldn’t have stopped until I was dead.

And that would have definitely sucked.

Peter Pettigrew had been taken to the Ministry to await trail, and kept under heavy guard at all times. Sirius Black had been released and soon would be meeting with Harry and Professor Dumbledore, but not for several more days. I prayed fervently that I would still be here, would be there, to witness that. To see Sirius Black free.

Ron and Harry had taken the revelation in the hospital wing in similar ways. Ron mainly was moody, quiet and shooting daggers in my direction at every interval. Not once did he bother to talk to me, to ask me how I knew about his rat. Harry behaved in much the same regard, until one afternoon after he read the latest issue of the _Daily Prophet_. The headline of the day said ‘BLACK VINDICATED’.

We sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, where several students still lingered after lunch. Harry slammed the paper down. “How?” he asked.

“How wha’?” parroted Ron, his mouth still filled of food. The ginger really did eat too much.

My eyes went to Harry’s. I knew what he was wanting. This had been coming for quite a while now. Talking with the Headmaster was easier for me, I saw him as a fellow adult with a higher level of maturity, a better grasp of understanding. But speaking with eleven and twelve year old Harry? Nope.

Even when I was a kid I couldn’t deal with them. I didn’t know how to talk with them. I understood why Dumbledore waited to tell Harry so many things. Destroying a child’s whole belief system was potentially dangerous and definitely heartbreaking.

“You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you. Let’s just drop it for now, okay?” I said, hoping that he would. He didn’t.

“No. I want to know. You know things about me that aren’t in any books. How did you know Ron’s rat was that Pettigrew person?” Harry said. I could hear the slight quiver in his voice, see the slight sheen in his eyes. Oh man. Was he going to cry? I could not deal with that. To stop him from weeping I decided to lie, for now.

“I’m a seer. I didn’t want to tell you because I thought that you would think I was a freak if you found out.” I huffed and flipped Hermione’s hair over my shoulders. “I don’t like being one so I keep it quiet as best I can.”

“A seer? But you’re so... logical, Mione.” Ron pointed out, confused as he looked between Harry and I.

“Exactly. Explain that.” Harry nodded.

“I told you. I don’t like being one. I’d rather use logic and reason rather than visions and hinky feelings. But sometimes there are ones that come on so strong I can’t ignore them. Like with Ron’s rat.” I finished leaving it at that. Picking up my bag I quit the Great Hall and went searching for privacy.

I didn’t find any. The first hallway I turned down I crashed into a certain blond Slytherin. For once his cronies weren’t hovering at his shoulders. He sneered at me, and wiped his robes. “Watch where you’re going, Granger.”

I rolled my eyes but grinned. “Thank you, Draco.”

That stopped him short. He frowned more. “What on earth are you going on about now, Granger? Hit your head?”

“I know that you'll deny this, but I know that you were the one who slipped the paper into my hand that night in the hospital wing. I just wanted to say thank you. You saved a lot of lives doing that.” I smiled. I had always had a soft spot for Draco, no matter how much my bestie argued against it. Before he could stop me, I planted a kiss on his cheek and continued down the hall.

*****

I had gotten my wish.

I sat in Dumbledore’s office with Harry, Ron, Snape, Fudge, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Dumbledore and… Sirius. He wore new robes that the Ministry had provided and was looking quite refreshed though still underweight. A steady diet should fix that, I thought. He and Harry stood off to the side of the office speaking quietly, immersed in their own conversation while another was being spoken over mine and Ron’s heads.

“…needs to be questioned, for gods sake man.” Fudge waved a hand in my direction. Kingsley nodded beside the Minister in agreement.

“And as I’ve told you Minister,” Dumbledore spoke quietly, but no less threatening. “That Miss Granger here will not be questioned under any circumstances. I have spoken with her and she knows no more than what she has already divulged. I will not say it again.”

Huh, the man who tricked me into taking a truth telling potion is lying to protect me from that idiot Fudge. Will wonders never cease?

I looked away from them and back over to the other two. Harry was smiling widely, I don’t think that during my time within the wizarding world that I had yet seen him so light hearted as he was right now. I was glad that I could give them this.

Sirius walked over to me, Harry at his side. He looked at me, held out his hand and said. “I hear that you are the one I should thank for this, Miss Granger.”

I ignored his hand and went straight for a hug. If ever there was someone who needed to be hugged, it was this man. Stepping away, I smiled, looked him in the eye and said. “You’re quite welcome, Padfoot.”

He was stunned. I couldn’t tell whether from the unexpected hug or from the nickname that only a select few knew. I grinned.

Harry would go off and live happily with Sirius who was now free, and Pettigrew would be locked in a cell in Azkaban and not off helping Voldemort rise. Yes, I thought, I quite possibly had done something right in my book.

Even if it hadn’t been right by JK Rowling’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a difficult one for me to write. Not because I didn't have the plot or anything, but because before I was initially going to sit down and write this I checked FB and saw that the great Alan Rickman died. Suffice it to say I spent the better part of the day crying and watching his movies. I couldn't bring myself to watch the HP movies though (IK strange as I post HP fanfiction). But I had only recently gotten around to NOT crying when Snape dies. I think that it will be many a year before I can say that again.  
> Rest in Peace Alan Rickman.  
> You will ALWAYS be in our hearts.


	7. Chapter Seven

The Minister and Kingsley went back to the ministry, and Ron and Harry went down to the end of term feast. I lingered behind. I still had things to say to Sirius and Dumbledore.

“Something on your mind, Miss Granger?” Dumbledore asked, noting that I hovered by the doorway. Sirius looked over at me from his hollow sunken eyes.

I shut the door behind me, and stepped closer to the men. “Yes, actually. There was more that I didn’t say in the hospital wing. Important things that you need to know. That both of you need to know.”

“Very well, Miss Granger.”

“What is it that we need to know?” Sirius asked gruffly.

“Tom Riddle’s diary wasn’t just an ordinary cursed object.” I tilted my head to look at the much taller men in the eyes. “It was a Horcrux.”

Dumbledore remained silent for a moment, letting that information sink in. Fawkes even glanced up from preening himself at my statement. Sirius however looked confused and questioned “What’s a Horcrux?”

“Very deadly and dangerous dark magic,” answered Dumbledore.

“Basically, you would have to perform a heinous act, like murder, and it splits a piece of your soul off into an object, to store it away, so that you, in essence wouldn’t die. The diary isn’t the only one Voldemort has. There are eight pieces in total.”

“Seven, now that the diary has been destroyed, I presume.” Dumbledore’s purple robes swished across the floor as he paced. I nodded.

“Wait, you’re saying that Harry destroyed yet another piece of Voldemort in that Chamber?” Sirius turned on his former teacher. “What the hell kind of trouble are you letting him get into Albus?”

“Not much more that you and your friends used to get into, Sirius.” He grinned.

I rocked back on my heels. I was hungry and the feast tonight was supposed to be quite abundant. “Uh, guys. I do know where we can find another one, in case that information might be of interest to you.”

Dumbledore’s eyes pierced mine. I could feel it this time around, his prodding into my mind but he wasn’t going to get very far. “Only one Miss Granger? Are you sure?”

“For now.”

Sirius wiped his hair back, confused. “I still don’t understand why I need to be here for this.”

“Because,” I began, and placed a small hand over his. “Its at your childhood home in Grimmauld Place.”

*****

After I had fed them the information on where to find the necklace and how to destroy it, I had gone to down to the banquet to join Ron and Harry. They were oblivious to my late entrance; Ron was once more stuffing his face, barely taking the time to chew and Harry seemed to be deep in thought. Probably thinking over the fact that he now had a father figure who would take care of him, I guessed.

I fell asleep that night feeling quite content that things were playing out the way that I had always hoped they should have.

*****

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK. Brrrrrrinnnnngggg.

I woke harshly as someone pounded on my front door.

“Dammit, wake up! You need to explain what the hell you were thinking! Open up!”

I wiped the sleep from my eyes and shuffled out to the living room to open my front door. T. came barging in as soon as I turned the lock. She tossed her jacket to the couch and turned on me, her hands on her hips.

“Morning,” I said, raising my eyebrow at her entrance. “What’s got your panties all twisted this morning?”

“What’s got _my_ ….? Are you kidding me?” T. glared at me. Clearly she was furious, but hell if I knew why. “You quit your job, and act like you have no idea who I am for weeks, and you want to know what the hell I’m thinking. I’m thinking you’re nuts! Half the time it’s like you aren’t even here, that your mind is someplace else and the other half it’s like you’re a different person entirely. What the hell is going on with you?”

“I… I’m sorry.”

I didn’t know what she was talking about… mostly. It was true that even when I came back from Hogwarts, I was still obsessing over my time there. But for her to say that I’m acting like a different person half the time was like shooting red sparks overhead.

I continued to apologize for a good half hour, then caught up with what was happening in T.’s life. I was such a crappy friend. I had spent so much time lately in Hogwarts that I hadn’t even realized how much I was missing in my own life.

After T. left I went to my bedroom to change. I stood in front of my standing mirror, no longer recognizing my own reflection. I was thinner, my cheeks flushed. I had somehow lost two weeks here but yet T. had inferred that she had seen me within that time span.

“What the hell is going on?” I asked my reflection. Before my eyes the image I saw began to swirl and mist over, distorting everything within it. I blinked.

Within the frame stood Hermione. She smiled. I glanced around the room, unsure of how I had gone back while still awake. But I was still in my bedroom. I looked back at the bushy haired girl grinning at me, and asked. “Is this really happening?”

“Yes.” She answered. Her voice sounded distant, as though she spoke from a long way away. She was. “I’m speaking with you, as you are with me.”

“How is this even happening?” I questioned.

“I may or may not have cast a spell.” She answered demurely.

“Uh-huh. You’re going to have to elaborate on that. What type of spell? And why is it affecting me?”

“Well, I was just really tired of being without friends at Hogwarts that I thought living someone else’s life for a while might be just the thing, you see. So I came up with a spell to do just that. I cast it before Ron and Harry became my friends, but it didn’t work. I knew that the spell had the potential to work so I kept playing with it.” She paused. “Then one day it did just what I thought it would.”

“Are you telling me that you’ve been living _my_ life while I’ve been living yours?” I practically shouted. I don’t know why I was so angry about this bit of info, but I was. She was fictional; it was okay for me to play with her life. But _I_ was real.

My head hurt.

“Exactly.” She nodded. “I still don’t know why it worked on you, or that it sent me to a world without magic, but I must say I’ve been enjoying being an adult. Have you ever had an Adios MotherFucker? It’s this amazing blue drink…”

I waved my hand stopping her. That explained the hangover I woke up from a few times ago. “I know what those are. I did go to college after all.”

“Yes. I saw that.” She must have gone through my apartment at some point, I thought.

“So is there some end to this spell, or what?” I asked.

I watched as she turned her eyes away and swallowed. “Only if both participants of the spell wish it to end.”

I sat back on my bed behind me. That wasn’t what I was expecting. I hesitantly asked her. “And you want it to end?”

“I… to be honest, no. Not yet. But if you want…”

“No!” I wanted to stay in the wizarding world as long as I was able. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind staying there a while longer.”

Hermione smiled widely at me. “Great! You no longer have to be asleep to switch with me. Anytime there is a mirror and we are talking with each other we can. Just touch the mirror and the transference happens. Want to test it?”

I was already reaching for the mirror before she even asked.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still not JK...

I was in a vacuum, spiraling into some unknown vortex. The only thing I could liken it to would be the opening credits of Doctor Who. I just kept twisting, never solidifying, until suddenly I crashed to the floor.

I swiveled into a sitting position. I was alone in an empty classroom, the only piece of furniture was the floor-length mirror. The Mirror of Erised. Golden and ornate and more beautiful than JK Rowling had described it.

“Fuck, Hermione, let’s add some cushions in here next time.” I grumbled as I got off the hard stone floor, cradling my bruised elbows.

******

It was the second week of the third year, and so far it was going off without incident. Sirius wasn’t on the run, and Remus Lupin was embraced as that year’s favorite teacher. Snape still treated him like the plague, but less than he had in the original text. At least as far as I could tell.

That didn’t mean that I hadn’t noticed when Lupin was mysteriously missing from class during the full moon. Snape did his whole “Turn to page 394” speech, trying to clue everyone in on the fact that Lupin was –is- a werewolf. I merely snorted, watching the classes play out.

The one class that shocked me however was Care of Magical Creatures. Sure Neville couldn’t open his textbook, and Harry rode Buckbeak around the grounds. Even Malfoy hadn’t paid attention and insulted the hippogriff and was injured. But Hagrid went completely useless, crying and reaching for his flask while Malfoy was lying on the ground bleeding. Every other student present had one of two reactions to the incident: panic or ignoring what had happened.

Buckbeak’s talons had shredded Malfoy’s arm down to the bone. I almost vomited when I saw the pinkish white peeking out through the flesh. Jumping into action, I took off my robe, using it in an attempt to try to staunch the bleeding. “Come on, Draco. Let’s get you to the hospital wing.”

I forced him up, and began to half carry him up to the castle. From behind me I heard Ron shouting after me. “Just let the prat bleed Hermione!”

I rolled my eyes. Seeing a young man – even if it was Draco – viciously attacked, even if he had brought it on himself by not paying attention, did not sit well with me. My very latent Responsible Adult genes kicked in, telling me to take charge since Hagrid clearly wasn’t up to the task.

“My Father will hear about this. Get your hands off of me, you filthy Mudblood.” Malfoy weakly attempted to remove my grasp.

“If I remove my grip, you’re going to pass out. Now shut up and keep walking. I’m pretty sure that if I have to levitate you up to the hospital wing, your head will be much more sore than your arm is now.” I threatened.

“Mudlood.”

“Dye job.” I countered.

*****

A week later Hermione and I still hadn’t switched back. Malfoy was still in the hospital wing, and Hagrid was under suspension for drinking on the job. Harry and Ron weren’t speaking with me. Apparently even showing the smallest amount of concern for Draco Malfoy was enough to lose their friendship.

Teenagers are so _dramatic_.

I was currently sitting in the Gryffindor common room, zoning out instead of finishing the Muggles studies work assignment when Seamus came racing in waving the latest copy of the Daily Prophet about.

“There’s been a breakout from Azkaban!” Seamus shouted. The room fell silent at the news.

“Who broke out?” I asked, trying to remain calm. This was news that was unexpected. Before Sirius had been the escapee, but he had been legally released thanks to my efforts the previous year. So who had escaped?

“Some bloke named Pettigrew. And a woman named Lestrange.” Seamus answered.

My eyes immediately went to Neville. He sat by the small window, and had turned white as a sheet. I walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, doing what I could to comfort him. He didn’t move.

“Did it say how they escaped?” Harry asked.

“No. Nothing. Just that they assume that it’s the result of dark wizards or witches unknown that helped them.” Seamus shrugged after scanning the article.

The news of the escape was all the school was talking about for the next several days. Guards had been posted near the school. And by guards I meant Dementors. Let me tell you that they are even creepier than they had been described. The first time I was near one I felt my body temperature drop as though I were freezing to death, and tears fell uncontrollably from my eyes.

I can guarantee that after that first encounter, I started practicing my Patronus. It was nothing more than a wisp of silver-white air for now, but it was a start. Secretly, I wondered what my Patronus would eventually turn into.

*****

“Professor McGonagal?” I began. It was after tranfiguration class at the end of the week when I approached the older woman.

“Yes Miss Granger?” she looked at me from behind her glasses. She eyed me wearily. It was the first Hogsmeade weekend and I was pretty certain that even the teachers needed the break.

“Does Professor Dumbledore know how Pettigrew escaped yet? I though that he was supposed to be solitary confinement or something?” Or whatever the wizard equivalent was.

“Unfortunately Miss Granger, he doesn’t. He’s been working with the Ministry to find where the pair have gone, but its so far proving uneventful.” Suddenly she straightened, and gave me a stern look. “I should not have shared that with you. I do not want to hear this conversation spread around the school, Mss Granger.”

“You know that they both went off to find Voldemort don’t you? They are going to try to bring him back.” I said calmly.

She nodded and sighed. “I had feared as much.”

Leaving her, I wandered the castle, lost in my own thoughts. I had no idea where I was going, no specific destination in mind. But soon I found myself in the abandoned classroom, standing in front of the Mirror of Erised.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to update. Got distracted with my new phone :) Quick note on changes.... main character is now 24 instead of 31. Works out better in the long run...

 

“I can prevent things Hermione. But I don’t know if I should.” I said to my reflection, not really expecting a response. I sat in front of the Mirror of Erised, impatiently waiting for Hermione to make an appearance. Since the news of Pettigrew’s escape, I had come here nearly every day needing to talk with Hermione. She was truly the only one who would give me valuable insight. But she had yet to make an appearance.

I sensed that she may have been avoiding me.

I had to admit the Mirror was a fascinating albeit annoying magical thing. It showed your hearts desire. Lately, my hearts desire was to see Hermione. Unfortunately, _I_ was Hermione in this world, so I sat for hours in front of “my” own reflection.

Sighing, I got up and opened the door to leave. Dinner would be over soon; I wasn’t hungry. As I started to make my way down the hall to head back to the dorm, I heard a pair of identical voices approaching.

“I told you she’s there again, Freddie.”

“George, you are holding the map, so clearly you can see that she is still there.” Fred chuckled as he grabbed for the map in his brother’s hand. “Where as, I can see Hermione standing right in front of us.”

“The Marauders map?” I asked, rushing over to the twins.

The twins shot a look at each other. George circled around me, and asked. “Now, how is it that you know about our map?”

“I know that it’s not _really_ your map. I know that you pinched it from Filch’s office first year, that it never lies, and shows all seven secret passageways out of the castle.” I crossed my arms defiantly. “But I’m not going to tell you how I know about it.”

“Why don’t you tell us…”

“Why it says you're not really Hermione…”

“But how we can see that you’re Hermione with our own eyes-” Fred started.

“She’s just as sassy and bossy-” added George to his brother.

“But here on this lovely parchment it says…”

“I know what it says. It’s not my secret to tell.” I knew they knew who I was, or wasn’t for that matter. It was interesting that the map knew who I truly was. But what could they do about it really?

“I say we should hand her over to Dumbledore, Freddie. Impersonating a student seems like a very serious offence.”

Fred nodded his agreement, though both boys were grinning.

“Sorry to burst your bubble boys, but Dumbledore already knows.”

Fred looped and arm around my shoulder, jovially. “Aw, don’t be like that, luv. We wouldn’t have really turned you in.”

“Yeah. We actually like this version of you.” George did finger quotes around the last of the phrase, grinning like an idiot. “You don’t yell at us nearly as much.”

I glared daggers at him, shrugging off Fred’s arm.

“Uh-oh, Freddie. Looks like that can kill a man!” George threw up his arms in mock surrender.

My eyes widened and my heart ached painfully. It took all my will power not to begin crying. Grabbing Fred by the arms, I said seriously, not breaking eye contact with him. “I would never, _never_ want you dead, Fred! Ever.”

With that last word, I walked away, knowing that at any moment I would start to cry.

What I didn’t see was an identical shared expression of confusion behind me.

*****

The next day was the first visit to Hogsmeade Village. I had to admit that I was feeling a little anxious. So far all of my trips to this world had remained primarily within the Hogwart’s grounds. The furthest away I had been was the Care of Magical Creatures class.

“…supposed to be the most haunted house in Great Britain…” Ron droned on beside me. Harry stood on my other side, nodding to whatever was being said.

They were conversing about the Shrieking Shack. I snorted, knowing full well that it wasn’t haunted at all. That was where we were heading now. I had to admit I was a little curious as to what it looked like.

The boys had finally started talking with me again after the whole Draco incident. I think they realized that I was just taking charge of a situation, not having feelings for Draco.

“Is it true that it has no doors or windows?” Harry asked Ron.

I sighed. Knowing as much as I already did about this world made a lot of the conversations quite boring. Once the excitement that I was ‘friends’ with Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley had worn off, I was left with this feeling of wanting to talk with other students, to find out how they felt about everything that had been going on.

Especially from Hufflepuffs. You never really got much from them, except for cannon fodder. Also known as Cedric Diggory, that sparkly vampire.

When we arrived the boys laughed and made jokes about ghouls and ghosts, trying to scare me or get me to snap more likely. I ignored them, taking in the view before me. When the shack had been shown in the movie it had been in the winter, covered in snow. Now though, the leaves were browning, lush shades of marigold and burgandy mingled with the evergreen trees in front of a rich colbalt blue and white background.

I loved the fall.

Smack in the middle of all that glorious nature, sat the shack. Just as run down, and frankly creepy as I had pictured it. If I hadn’t known the history of it I would have been, well, creeped out.

“Shopping for a new house Weaslebee?” Draco shouted out from behind us.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> still not Jk Rowling

We all turned. Draco’s arm was still in a sling. Though Ron and Harry thought that he was milking his injury for all he was worth, I knew better. I had taken the time to speak with Madame Pomfrey briefly. Between needing to regrow some bone, there had been serious tears in the muscles and tendons in Draco’s arm. It was going to take awhile before he would be at one hundred percent.

“Shove off, Malfoy.” Ron sneered, stepping in front of me in a protective manner.

I rolled my eyes.

“Yes doesn’t your family live in… one room?” Draco laughed.

Ron growled and raised his wand.

“Enough. All of you.” I grabbed his arm, stopping him. Even though Harry had been silent throughout the entire exchange, I could feel the tension coming from him. Stepping forward I asked Draco. “Are you so bored that you felt the need to seek us out to torment us, Draco? You could have just asked to join us you know. No need for all this subterfuge.”

All three boys stared at me, mouths open.

“As if I would want to hang around with you lot, a scar-head, a weasel and a mudblood.” Draco sneered.

I watched as Harry and Ron bristled at the insults. Stepping forward even more, I laughed. “You keep saying that Draco, yet you keep finding ways to be near us. You don’t have a crush on one of us, do you?”

He paled and sputtered. “I.. how _dare_ you…even think…”

Without finishing his sentence he ran off back to the village and up to the castle.

Harry was laughing so hard that he clutched his side. Ron, snorting, said, “That was bloody brilliant Hermione.”

*****

My emotions were in complete turmoil. Let me tell you that going through puberty once was more than enough for me. I honestly loathed the fact that I had to go through it a second time. When I added in all the extra stress of the magical world, it would be enough to make even the most Zen person snap.

And I was definitely not Zen.

To top that off I was using the Time-Turner for my classes. Somehow, even with the grades that _I_ had earned for Hermione, I still was given one. I was sure that by the end of the year, if I kept using it, I was going to be over a hundred years old. It was tiring to say the least.

I had a feeling that Dumbledore was behind it.

But then again he was behind almost everything, wasn’t he?

Exhausted, I plopped down next to Harry and Ron on the giant pouf in Trelawney’s classroom. While Hermione may have hated the class, I loved it. It was a cakewalk compared to some of the other classes. For myself, I had spent the last decade or so learning about ‘divination’ as it were. Palm reading, tea leaves, tarot, I had always found it to be relaxing and even fun even if I didn’t adhere to it in the strictest of sense.

“Today, I will be giving aura readings on each of you. Though I will give vague descriptions, your assignment will be to write a page and a half essay over how you interpret it.” Trelawney said in a daze behind her bug-eyed glasses.

“She’s always vague,” Ron muttered. “What’s so special about today?”

Harry snorted.

“Shush!” I hissed at them, grinning.

Over the next twenty minutes the entire class took turns having their auras ‘read’ by the hippie professor. Once again Harry was surrounded by death. That probably wasn’t going to go away until Voldemort was destroyed, I thought.

Then came my turn. I walked up to the professor’s desk, and waited as patiently as I could while the witch stared unblinkingly at me. I was about to roll my eyes, thinking that this was an extreme waste of time when Trelawney’s own eyes rolled back. Her head fell forward, and her shoulders slumped. Reaching for her I asked, “Are you alright, professor?”

Her voice mutated as she answered.

 

_The servant will reunite with the master. The time will grow nearer than before for Change has come. She will hold the answers to stop the Dark Lord alongside the one who will Destroy._

_She will hold the answers._

 

I stepped back from her, shaken to my core. It was too early for Voldemort to come back. I glanced around the room. Everyone was staring the Professor Trelawney, silent and terrified. I doubt that any of them had ever witnessed the woman go into an actual trance before.

My eyes met Harry’s. He was pale. Though he sat perfectly still I could tell that he was freaking out. I knew I was.

*****

In the common room after dinner we sat huddled in the corner, trying to remain quiet as we discussed what happened in Divination.

“D’you thinks it means that You-Know-Who is coming back?” Ron asked for the hundredth time. “D’you think Harry here is the one who has to destroy him?”

“Ob-vi-ous-ly.” I said slowly, mimicking Alan Rickman as best I could from Order.

“I’m just saying… maybe it could be…” Ron stuttered.

“No, Ron. Hermione’s right. But I just don’t know why it has to be me. Or how I’m even supposed to do it.” Harry looked at me, expecting me to answer.

I could answer. Somehow Harry knew that I was the She in Trelawney’s prediction. But I couldn’t bring myself to answer him. I still had more questions myself. I felt as though because I had changed so much of the story already, I was losing all that I already had known.

I was messing with time, in more ways than one and I wasn’t prepared for what I had set in motion.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special shout out to my friend Sarah who has been a tremendous help and sounding board for me to bounce ideas off of.  
> 

I had been at Hogwarts for almost two whole months with no end in sight. I couldn’t say that I was surprised. Hermione had seemed like she really enjoyed being me. I doubted that I would be going back anytime soon.

Rumors of Trelawney’s prediction kept the students entertained far longer than I had expected. It changed with each retelling. Only those who had been in the class knew for certain what had been said. I knew that Harry had memorized it as well as I had. By mutual agreement we had decided to leave the subject alone. There was no point in analyzing it to death until something happened to bring it to a head.

The day came in Defense Against the Dark Arts when we faced the boggarts. I had to admit that the thought of facing the giant snake or creepy clown did not sit well with me. But they were there, as was Ron’s giant roller-skating spider. It was creepy no matter what you did to it. I hate spiders as badly as he did.

Malfoy stood at the front of the line, sneering at the cupboard, waiting for the boggart to appear. He looked ashen, and I doubted that anyone else saw the tremor in his hand as he raised his wand to open the door. In slow motion, similar to how Snape had walked out for Neville, Lucius Malfoy stepped out. The black cane he always carried with him tapped his palm threateningly. It muttered and sneered. “Draco, you pathetic, foolish boy. You will never learn.”

The young Malfoy’s grey eyes widened and he swallowed. He froze as the boggart-Lucius raised the cane. As it swung downward I rushed forward, and shoved Draco out of the way. The head of the cane hit my shoulder before disappearing. I looked up, rubbing my bruised – broken? – shoulder. I paused at what I saw. Or rather _who_.

It was me. Actual me. Not Hermione me or vice versa. Actual me. Great, because I wasn’t already getting confused with this _Freaky Friday_ stuff enough.

She – I – laughed and started talking. “Keep doing that, and they’ll know who you care for.”

“Shut up.” I narrowed my eyes at the doppelgänger.

“You will fail. Everyone will die and it will be because of you.” It taunted.

“Stop it.” I said louder.

“You’re a fraud.”

“Enough!” I shouted. Without using the spell, I pointed my wand at the boggart. Anger shot through me. I wasn’t even aware of what I was doing. One second the doppelgänger was standing there smirking and mocking, and in the next it exploded, destroying the cupboard behind it with the force of the blast.

As the smoke cleared, so did my anger. I could hear the class mutter around me, several of them appeared frightened. Harry and Ron had identical expressions on their faces, wide eyed and open mouthed. Lupin looked concerned. I knew I was destined to get a talking to by him later.

Draco was the only one who seemed unfazed by the explosion. Absentmindedly I continued to rub my shoulder. He noticed the action and frowned. I could tell that he was still trying to make sense of my actions. I could almost hear his thoughts. Why on earth would the mudblood take a beating for him? Why would anyone?

I nodded to him and waited. It was barely visible but I saw it, his returning nod.

“Class dismissed. Miss Granger would you stay back please.” Lupin called out.

After everyone left I stood in front of Lupin, waiting patiently for the chance to escape to the hospital wing. My shoulder was throbbing. If this was actually happening to Draco, I was definitely going to beat the shit out of Lucius the next time I saw him. There was no excuse for child abuse.

Lupin leaned against a desk, arms crossed and silently observed me for several moments. Unable to take the penetrating gaze any longer I said. “Look I’m sorry I destroyed the cupboard. It was unintentional.”

“But you shoving Mr. Malfoy out of the way wasn’t.”

I paused before saying, “No, it wasn’t. But it didn’t look like anyone else was going to step in.”

Lupin sighed. “To my shame, you’re correct. I should have stepped in sooner. There are times Miss Granger, when I’ve noticed that you seem to be more adult than child.”

“You’ve no idea,” I joked, flashing back to when I said the same to Dumbledore.

“As a matter of fact, I do have an idea. I’ve spoken with both Professor Dumbledore and Sirius at length on the subject.” Lupin said. “I’m not sure why you are here or why the boggart said what it had to you, but I do believe that you will do your damnedest to not fail. In whatever regards.”

I met his eyes. Remus Lupin. His death had hit me hard as well, harder even than Fred’s. I hoped that he was right, that I wouldn’t fail. Perhaps I _could_ stop all the deaths.

Perhaps.

*****

“Oi! Granger!”

I heard the voice behind me as I was walking down to the Great Hall for dinner. After my talk with Lupin, he had sent me off to Madame Pomfrey to have my shoulder seen to. Thankfully, it hadn’t broken. The bone was bruised though, and hurt like a sonofabitch.

I glanced over my shoulder and saw a shock of white-blond hair. Draco Malfoy stood leaning against the wall, his arms crossed in front of him.

“You bellowed?” I arched my brow.

“What the sodding hell were you thinking?” he demanded, stomping over to me. “I was perfectly capable of handling a mere boggart without your interference, mudblood.”

I didn’t say anything. His face was flushed with anger. I was pretty sure that I wasn’t the one with whom he was angry. Deciding to help him save face, I lied. “I know you could. I just… felt like shoving you at that moment… to embarrass you.”

His shoulders slumped as though the fight went out of him. “Yes… well. See to it that it doesn’t happen again.”

“Trust me, it won’t.” I said coldly. I meant it. If I was ever around Lucius Malfoy again and saw him start shit… Believe me when I say that Voldemort would have nothing on me.

“Anyway…” Draco hesitated then whispered. “T-thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I nodded and went off to eat.


	12. Chapter Twelve

I decided that it was past time for another Horcrux to be destroyed. After the ‘prophecy’ in Trelawney’s class, I felt that I shouldn’t tempt fate any more by procrastinating about it.

I sent an owl to Dumbledore, with the information about the one in Bellatrix Lestrange’s vault. There was no way in hell that I would face that dragon down there. Even though I absolutely loved the thought of them, being face to face with a fire-breathing one was a different story.

I also told him of the ring that held the Resurrection Stone within the setting. I couldn’t remember where it was supposed to be found, but I figured that Dumbledore was smart enough to figure it out himself. I did feel the need to add in the line… “ _and whatever you do, do NOT put the ring on…”_

I’m pretty sure that the _idiot_ was implied.

Christmas had come and gone. Harry had spent his first ever holiday with Sirius. From the stories he told me when he came back, they had spent much of the time attacking the disaster of the Black family home. I suggested to Harry that he ask Molly Weasley for help in the matter. I was pretty certain that she would jump at a chance to clean out that place.

Not to mention that Sirius would probably pay a king’s ransom to avoid cleaning it himself.

I had sent an owl to Hermione’s parents telling them that I was planning on staying at school over the holidays. I felt that it was for the best. It was hard enough pretending to be Hermione around her friends. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to fool her parents.

I still hadn’t heard anything from Hermione, even though I still went to the Mirror every day. I shouted at it, kicked and screamed at it, and still nothing. No response. On occasion Fred and George Weasley stood guard for me outside the door, though they had no clue why I went there. I appreciated the company.

After the boggart incident with Draco, Harry and Ron had once again taken to keeping their distance from me. I wanted to confront them about it, and ask them why they thought what I did was so wrong. But I didn’t bother. They had their minds set on the subject, and I wasn’t about to struggle to change them.

Even if I thought that they were being complete prats about the whole thing.

“I still don’t see why you had bothered, Hermione.” Ron said to me one Saturday afternoon after holiday. “Who cares what happens to Malfoy really?”

“Honestly Ronald, generally speaking bullies at school are quite often bullied at home. Frankly, if I had seen that done to _anyone_ I would have reacted the same. And you Harry,” I turned to him. He had remained fairly quiet during this variation of the argument. “I would have thought that you would be one of the few who might understand what it was like to be bullied at home. Isn’t that what your cousin does? You lash out at Draco as a release the same way he does with you.”

Ron and Harry glanced at each other, never having considered this apparently. I continued in as stern a voice as I could manage. “I know that Draco is unpleasant and mean, but I’ve seen both of you use your tempers, as well.”

“But we’re not racists,” argued Ron.

“Exactly,” Harry added.

“Harry’s not. But Ron, you still treat house elves like they are lesser than you. You have never bothered to treat them as equals, not the way Harry does.” I responded.

“But they’re not equals. They’re servants. They are inferior.” Ron argued as though his point was obvious to everyone.

“That doesn’t mean that you have to treat them as such.” Harry finally spoke up, adding his two cents.

“Well, I’ve never picked on anyone because they were muggle-born,” Ron said.

“No, but you used to pick on me, remember? What makes you so different really from Malfoy?” I snapped.

The argument went on for a while. Eventually Harry and I gave up on trying to convince Ron. He may not be of the same caliber that Draco was, but he was still from a pureblood family. It was how he was raised. I feared that it was going to take a lot to convince him to change his mind.

*****

Another month passed, then another. I had been at Hogwarts almost the entire school year, taking a crazy amount of classes, dealing with teenage angst and exploring the castle. My favourite part so far was the kitchens. I know, weird place right? But what can I say? I love food. And the house elves loved me.

I had found my way there one afternoon after sleeping through lunch. Let’s just say that five morning classes and using the Time-turner twice had left me exhausted. I remembered about tickling a pear (insert joke here) as a way to get into the kitchens. I was shocked at how fucking adorable house elves were. Pointy ears, squishy faces, and squeaky voices… they were too cute for words in my opinion.

At first they had seemed shocked that I had found my way down there, but were eager to feed me after I had told them that I had missed lunch. They were thrilled when I told them all how delicious the food always is, and that I wished I could cook half as well. In gratitude they piled my arms high with food to take with me but welcomed me to stop by any time. After that day I had a tendency of sneaking down to the kitchens when I needed a snack.

And as I had a horrible habit of eating my feelings I found myself needing a ‘snack’ quite often.

Especially after the devastating news.

Buckbeak.

Buckbeak was sentenced to be killed. I had been so focused on trying to talk to Hermione, and avoiding the boys that I had forgotten all about Buckbeak. I never went to visit with Hagrid anymore, (he always smelled heavily of alcohol), so it had escaped my notice when the hippogriff was sentenced.

I was the one who was supposed to help Hagrid find the legal crap regarding Buckbeak’s attack on Malfoy. Regardless of the fact that the animal would escape, I still should have put in the effort.

Sometimes I really hated that Hermione was such an over-frigging-achiever.

I tended to lean more along the do-as-little-as-possible-to-achieve-the-greatest-effect motto. Why couldn’t I have traded places with a Slytherin?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still not Jk Rowling.  
> Thanks to everyone who is sticking with this. Drama is fast approaching.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As my friend Sarah commented... Give unto me shirtless twins!  
> Your wish, my command girly!

The morning sun beat against my eyes, but I ignored it and snuggled deeper into my pillow. My eyes popped open however, when an arm wrapped around me, and a male voice whispered into my ear. “Morning gorgeous.”

I screamed, jumping out of the bed. In my haste to get away my legs tangled in the sheets and I fell to the ground. The man looked over the edge of the bed, concerned. “Are you okay, babe? I didn’t mean to scare you.”

I threw up my hands in a defensive pose, when something caught my eye. Something shiny. And large. And on a very specific finger on my left hand.

Shit. No wonder why Hermione had been ignoring me.

“Uh, sorry. Had a bad dream.” I fibbed as I looked the man over. Pretty gorgeous. Not my own personal taste but still, good looking.

He got out of bed and pulled me to my feet. “You are so cute when you get flustered. How about I make you some breakfast?”

I nodded, completely mute as he planted a kiss on my lips before heading to the kitchen.

It turned out that Robert – the fiancé – and ‘I’ had been engaged only a week, after only dating six months. When he left for work, I scrambled to search the apartment trying to find any clue to what I had missed the last few months.

I was thrown when I looked at my bookshelf. I was missing a book. _Deathly Hallows_ was gone. A terrible thought pricked the back of my mind. I went on to Google and typed in _how many novels in the Harry Potter series_.

I started to cry when the answer appeared.

_Six._

 

Later that afternoon Hermione finally showed her face to me after months of silence.

“So,” I started. “Apparently I’m engaged?”

“Technically, I am,” she said from the mirror.

“Whatever. Is it just me or is this just getting way too complicated?”

Hermione nodded, then said, waving to herself. “Or that I don’t feel comfortable in my own skin anymore?’

_So not just me then,_ I thought. I considered our situation for a moment. I didn’t know if she would be willing, but I had a suggestion.

“How about we each take a few more months, then decide what we should do. If we should return to being ourselves or…” I gestured.

“Or we become the other person entirely?” she finished softly, voicing the rest of my idea.

After a brief moment to think about it, our eyes met with some unspoken understanding. If I went this time, I had to commit, no more waffling on the fence over every single action I took. Even if my decisions changed things, which they had already done, I was going to have to live with the outcome. Somehow I knew that Hermione felt the same. Perhaps we could just be ourselves, and not have to pretend to be the other person anymore. As one we reached out, touching our own mirrors.

*****

I thanked whatever deity was listening that Hermione had been sitting on a bed when she had done the transference. I fell back onto the lumpy mattress, and stared up at the low ceiling.

Not immediately recognizing where I was, I looked around the small room. Somewhere outside the room I could hear a woman yelling for me. “Hermione, dear. Have you gotten the boys up yet?”

Mrs. Weasley. I was at the Burrow.

“Not yet.” I shouted, reaching for the door handle.

“If you could, dear. Harry and Sirius will be here any minute.” Mrs. Weasley shouted again. “I know that Arthur wants to get an early start.”

Distantly I heard pots and pans clanging below me. The smell of breakfast crept up the stairs as I peeked around the wobbly house. I headed upwards, vaguely recalling that Ron’s bedroom was at the very top. I passed a door that had the initials ‘F’ and ‘G’ on it. I pounded on it and said. “Time to get up!”

No response.

Smiling, I pounded again. This time saying, “Your mother has breakfast ready.”

Synchronized thuds came from behind the door, which was quickly pulled open. The twin gingers stood before me in nothing more than than pajama bottoms and wild hair. “Morning,” I said cheerily, taking in the view of surprisingly toned bodies before heading up the next flight of stairs.

I giggled stupidly. I didn’t feel too bad ogling the twins. They were almost seventeen after all, and I was ‘fourteen’. Hormones, love ‘em or hate ‘em, they were definitely fun at this age.

Knocking on Ron’s door, I shouted. “Ronald, get up.”

“Go away, ‘Mione,” he responded a bit muffled. I was pretty sure he had his pillow over his head.

Throwing open the door, I was at first blinded by the massive amounts of orange everywhere. Spying the lump that was Ron under the blankets of the twin bed, I pulled the covers. “Your mother says to get up. Harry should be here soon. Then we are leaving.”

I smacked him with another pillow when he refused to move. Finally, he sat up, his orange hair everywhere. “Bloody hell, ‘Mione. Can’t a bloke sleep?”

“No.” I said, tossing the pillow at his face. “Now, get up before your mother comes to get you.”

“You might have at least woken me in a nicer way,” he suggested with a grin. I rolled my eyes and left him alone.

By the time I got downstairs everyone was seated at the table having breakfast. The cougar in me was slightly disappointed that Fred and George were now fully clothed. I greeted Mr. Weasley and Harry with a nod and a “Morning.”

When Sirius stepped inside the cramped kitchen, I ran over and gave him a giant hug. Excitedly, I said, “Padfoot! It’s so good to see you!”

“Well, that’s the warmest welcome I’ve received in ages,” Sirius said, hugging me back.

“Oi, why don’t we get hugs like that?” asked Fred, red in the face.

George chuckled.

“Probably because she is afraid something will crawl out of one of your pockets and attack her.” Mr. Weasley chuckled. “Smart girl, that Hermione.”

We all ate. At the last possible moment Ron stumbled into the kitchen as we prepared to leave for the Quidditch World Cup. Sirius had paid for the tickets for the group instead of Mr. Weasley winning them, but we still had to trek to the port-key. Sirius and Mr. Weasley lead the group followed by the twins. Harry and Ron walked behind Ginny and I as we stumbled along behind Fred and George.

Have to admit I wasn’t really watching where I was going. My eyes may have been inappropriately glued to the matching behinds of the twins.

Lost in my thoughts, I almost ran into those sweet derrieres when they stopped. Cedric Diggory had dropped down from the tree beside us. His father walked over to Sirius and Mr. W. probably discussing where the port-key was located.

When introduced to Cedric, I may or may not have said, “Nice to meet you Eddie C. Sparkly out, isn’t it?”

Everyone looked at me as though I’d lost my mind.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> don't hate me, don't hate me, don't hate me....

I won’t bother trying to describe the match. As fun as it was to see it, I wasn’t fully paying attention to it.

I was watching Winky and the ‘empty’ seat beside her.

As soon as we sat in the Ministers box, I yelled at Harry to take his wand out of his back pocket. With a false warning I said he might break it. In all honesty, I knew that had he kept it back there, Barty Crouch Jr. would have swiped it.

We had gone back to the magically altered tents after the match. Ron immediately began to fangirl, or fanboy rather, over Victor Krum. Fred and I sat next to each other, listening as Ron pontificated over the many abilities the seeker seemed to possess.

“What do you think, Fred? Think he’s in love?” I asked.

“Seems like it to me.” Fred answered, looking at me.

“Ron, be careful though, Krum might not like freckly gits like you.” George teased.

Ron swung a punch at his brother, missing. Everyone laughed as he fell.

Our revelry was interrupted when shouts came from outside the tent. Everyone turned slightly at the noise; I gripped my wand tightly. Mr. W. went out to see what was happening, but I already knew.

The Deatheaters were on the move.

*****

It was utter chaos. Smoke and screaming equally filled the air. The muggle shopkeeper and his family were hanging from the air upside-down, terrified. Wizards of all kinds Disapperated swiftly, trying to avoid the Deatheaters at all costs.

All in all, it was pretty fucking nerve-wracking.

For a several minutes I was seperated from Ron and Harry. Left on my own in the forest, I shouted for them. In response I heard someone yell out, “Granger!” before the person grabbed me, pulling me further back into the tree line.

“Stay down, Granger. Don’t want that bushy head of yours spotted, do you?”

“Draco? What are you doing here?” I asked, but followed his advice. I knew that he was doing what he could to protect me from his father.

“Just keeping an eye out for wandering mudbloods,” Draco muttered under his breath.

“You know, you should really wear a hat, Draco. That glow-in-the-dark hair of yours is going to expose your hide-out.” I murmured.

Our eyes met for several seconds. I grinned. So did he. For all of a split-second I thought that he was going to lean in. I had no idea what might have happened next, though as everything went green.

We both looked up at the sky. Screams could be heard from around the grounds. Floating in the air above the campsite was the Dark Mark. I knew that somehow Barty Crouch Jr. had still managed to get ahold of a wand. Unless, of course, it was a different Voldemort follower that had produced it. I doubted it.

I reached for Draco’s hand as we stared, fixated, up at the terrifying Mark. In the distance, directly under the Mark, we heard hexes being shouted. Then as if a switch had been flicked, silence surrounded us. Draco griped my hand tightly for a split second as we held our breath.

A man’s tortured voice shouted out, “That’s my son! What have you done! My son, my boy!”

Mr. Weasley was screaming.

*****

I ran as fast as I could to where Mr. W. was shouting. Others were yelling as well. “They’re kids! They wouldn’t know how to produce that! That’s Harry Potter… of course he wouldn’t have…”

Others were trying to calm Mr. W. “Arthur, it was an accident… unintentional… there was no way to know that he would die…”

At the edge of a crowd of Ministry-looking officials, I shoved my way through. I screamed and fell to the ground sobbing.

Ronald Weasley was dead.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not JKR

Ron was dead. Ronald Filius – Bilius?- Whatever. - Weasley was dead.

No matter how many times I repeated it, I couldn’t believe it.

Ron was dead. The Ministry of Magic was at fault. Too many hexes had been shot. Harry had managed to duck in time to avoid them. Ron hadn’t.

Over the next week I felt that my life was … was… Numb. It was like I was in one of those music videos where the main singer was completely still but everything else was moving at hyper speed.

The _Daily Prophet_ and Rita Skeeter were having a field day over the events at the World Cup. Every issue brought more speculation, and no answers for what had happened.

 

_Dear Readers, This witch wonders if and when Cornelius Fudge, our very own Minister of Magic, will have answers for our intrepid readers. Who was the villain who produced the Dark Mark over the annual Quidditch World Cup? Which Ministry official shot the final hex, killing an unsuspecting and innocent twelve-year old boy…._

 

The Ministry had given the Weasley’s high compensation in an effort to make up for their fault in killing Ronald. Mr. Weasley had reluctantly taken the mass amount of galleons. It wasn’t going to help them bring their son and brother back. Molly Weasley had begged for the use of a Time-Turner to change what had happened, but the Ministry refused stating that it wasn’t an important enough reason to authorize the use of one. Mrs. Weasley had been taking Ron’s death the hardest out of everyone, either lashing out in anger or crying uncontrollably. There wasn’t anything that anyone could do or say that made any difference.

I met Charlie and Bill Weasley at the funeral. I had never imagined that this would have been the way that I would be introduced to them, as we stood side-by-side next to the freshly dug grave. They had taken time off from their jobs to spend time with the family before the four youngest… _three_ youngest went back to Hogwarts.

Several Ministry officials and Hogwarts teachers had come to pay their respects. After the funeral Dumbledore pulled me aside to speak with me. “Miss Granger, I’m so sorry for the loss of your friend.”

I nodded, eyes wide and dry. I had cried so much over the past few days that I had no moisture in me left to produce any tears.

“Miss Granger…” the old wizard started.

“I didn’t know.” I whispered.

“What was that?”

“This wasn’t supposed to happen.” I looked up into the old man’s eyes. “Ron wasn’t supposed to die. He was just a kid. He was supposed to survive until the end.”

Dumbledore gazed at me. I saw tears begin to form in his blue eyes. “When you are young, life can, at times, seem infallible. But life always has ways of reminding us that is never the case.”

“That’s not what I meant.” I shook my head. “I told you that I knew things. _This_ ,” I waved my arm towards the graveyard where the Weasley family were still sobbing around Ron’s headstone. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“And what was supposed to happen? Nothing is ever set in stone Miss Granger.”

I looked at him, bringing him into focus. I think it may have been the first time I noticed anything since Ron’s death. Suddenly I was very angry. “Voldemort will be back by the end of the year. You need to get that stick out of your ass -”

“Now see here…” he interrupted.

“- and tell Harry the truth. Prepare him. Simply destroying the Horcruxes aren’t going to mean jack shit if Harry doesn’t know about Trelawney’s prophecy.”

“And how is it that you know about Sybill’s vision, Miss Granger?” Dumbledore asked.

“I think that we’ve established that I’m not going to tell you. Either you tell him or I will. I’ll see you back in school, professor.” With that, I walked away from the old man.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so it had been forever since I've even looked at this. then I reread it yesterday and got inspired to add a chapter. So as a belated birthday present from me to you... have a chapter.  
> Gabi  
> <3<3<3

I stayed with Harry and Sirius for the rest of summer break. The Weasley’s needed time alone to heal. As much as Harry and I both wanted to be there for them, it was hard for us as well to be around so many things and people that reminded us of Ron.

I was laying on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, when Harry knocked on the door. He entered and sat down beside me. “I can’t believe that Ron’s gone. If he’d only ducked down in time…”

“I know. But he didn’t.” I said. I knew what was going through his head. Yet another person he was close with was now gone. I swore to myself right then that there wouldn’t be any more.

*****                               

Back on the Hogwarts Express, Harry and I sat in a compartment with the Weasleys. No one spoke. It had been a month since Ron’s death and we were all still trying to find our footing without him. New dynamics had to be made, and I knew that no matter what it was going to be difficult to accomplish.

Especially this year.

After arriving at Hogsmeade Station, Harry, Ginny and I waited for a carriage to take us up to the castle. But we weren’t the only ones. Somehow Draco managed to miss the carriages that held most of his Slytherin cronies.

He kept glancing over to our group. Finally, I watched as he walked over. His trademark smirk was missing as he stepped over to Ginny. “I’m sorry about your brother.”

“Shove off Malfoy.” Harry stepped in front of Ginny protectively. Pulling out his wand he pointed it under Draco’s nose. “We don’t need any of your snarky comments this year.”

“Harry…” I tried to pull his arm down.

“No, Hermione! I’m not going to put up with Malfoy’s shit this year,” Harry shouted at me.

“It doesn’t look like he is trying to start shit.” I said calmly. Draco’s eyes were still glued to the wand under his nose.

“If you couldn’t tell, I’m trying to offer condolences, Potter.” Draco’s voice wobbled. “The Ministry have a bunch of idiots working there. And my father is no better.”

“What?” Harry snapped, confused by what the Slytherin was saying. His wand lowered slightly.

Stepping in between the two enemies, I asked Draco. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about that if my father hadn’t gotten drunk that night and decided to relive the ‘good old days’” he finger quoted, “none of this would have happened. I truly am sorry about Weasle – Ron.”

Harry and Ginny looked at each other, at an utter loss at this unexpected turn of events. I watched as several emotions played on their faces: disbelief, sadness, anger. I turned to Draco. He hands were now stuffed in his pockets and he seemed to be looking for anyone else to go talk with. I glanced around as well. It seemed to me that all the Slytherin’s around us were glaring at Draco.

I was convinced that something had happened. Pulling him to the side, and away from Harry, I asked him, lowering my voice. “What happened, Draco? Why are your fellow Slytherin’s pissed at you?”

His eyes met mine. Frowning, he said seriously. “I turned my father in.”

I was shocked. “As in…?”

“I sent a tip up to the Auror offices about where my father hid all of his more questionable items. He’s currently rotting away in Azkaban.”

“You sent your father to Azkaban, Malfoy?” Harry said behind me.

Draco turned red. The two boys scrutinized each other. I could practically feel the air change around me as I waited for either of them to speak. Finally Draco broke the silence. “I also sent tips on some of the other pureblood families as well.”

“I can’t believe that you would rat out your father, Malfoy.” Harry scoffed. He wasn’t wrong. The Draco Malfoy I had memorized from the books and movies wouldn’t have done something as drastic as this. But then again this wasn’t that Draco Malfoy.

“Yes, well I can’t believe that he would have been so stupid as to drunkenly cause that much panic amongst his own kind, to the point that someone…” Draco shrugged and avoided looking a Ginny. “I’m not a complete idiot, Potter. I do actually understand right from wrong.”

I glanced back and forth between the two boys, one dark haired, bespeckled and scarred, and the other pale and blond. And both dealing with teenage emotions that neither knew how to comprehend.

“Why don’t you ride in with us, Draco?” I offered.

He looked shocked, and waited for the other two to argue against it. But they didn’t. They didn’t offer any encouragement either, but it was a start I thought.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am not JKRowling no matter how I wish it to be otherwise. I have no ownership of the characters or world.  
> I hope you've enjoyed! I'll keep posting until I either finish or grow bored of the story hehe  
> Feel free to leave a comment!


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